


Christmas Lights

by asexualjuliet



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Mike Wheeler is a Good Brother, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualjuliet/pseuds/asexualjuliet
Summary: Nancy Wheeler used to love Christmas.And then a little boy got taken. A flickering alphabet went up in his house. A monster attacked, and everything changed.
Relationships: Mike Wheeler & Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Christmas Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ottermo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/gifts).



> For ottermo, who pointed out that “while the Byers family can freely just not put up Christmas lights, all the other kids live with parents who Don’t Get It, yikes. (Nancy...... that’s a Mike & Nancy fic waiting to happen, isn’t it? You know you want to..)”
> 
> Thank you for the lovely idea! I hope I did it justice

Nancy Wheeler used to love Christmas. 

She used to love decorating the house, with the little porcelain figurines that sit outside of the miniature houses on the mantle, and the long garlands of cranberries and popcorn she always made with her mom. She used to love curling up on the couch to watch cheesy Christmas movies with Barb, and she loved the way she could look at the Christmas tree in the living room and blur her eyes so that the lights bled into each other in a million different colors. 

Nancy used to love Christmas. 

And then a little boy got taken. A flickering alphabet went up in his house. A monster attacked, and _everything_ changed.

Nancy’s walking home from Jonathan’s when it starts snowing again. It had snowed almost a foot over the weekend, and Mike and his friends had all been excited as hell to play outside, as evidenced by the lopsided snowman now smiling at Nancy from the front yard. 

The snow coming down from the sky is lovely, getting caught on Nancy’s eyelashes and in her hair. The air smells like winter, and Nancy loves it. 

She waves to Mike when she turns into the driveway. Her little brother is stuck shoveling the last of the weekend’s snow, and unlike her, he’s definitely not appreciating the additional snowfall. 

“Dad won’t even notice if you don’t finish,” she points out. 

“Yeah, but Mom will,” he says, throwing another shovel full of snow over his shoulder. Nancy smiles. 

“Sucks for you,” she taunts, and walks through the front door. 

(No. She doesn’t walk through the front door).

She makes it so damn _close_ to the front door before the bushes around her light up in rainbow colors. 

And Jesus _Christ,_ that catches Nancy off-guard. She flinches and looks back at the bushes, adorned in Christmas lights of every color. 

_Fuck._

She goes inside as quickly as she can, shutting the door behind her. 

(No. She doesn’t go inside).

(She tries, but she _can’t)._

Nancy can’t move, frozen in fear. 

_(The lights flicker. Or do they? Nancy can’t tell)._

And her brain says _don’t be a baby, they’re just Christmas lights._

_(A monster roars in the distance. Nancy’s hand instinctively searches for something to use to put up a fight)._

_(There’s nothing. Her gun is gone, God, where did she put it?)_

And her heart is pounding, and she can’t breathe, and she’s shaking like a leaf, feeling like a deer in the headlights.

_(A deer lying dead in the woods. Bloody chunks taken out of it by a monster)._

_(A monster drawing nearer—)_

“Nancy!” a voice next to her says, and Nancy jumps, letting out a scream and immediately clapping a hand to her mouth. 

_“Shit,_ Mike,” she gasps, “don’t fucking _do_ that!”

“Nancy, what’s wrong?” he asks quietly, eyes full of worry. 

“I’m fine,” she says, but the words are shaky, and Mike’s not convinced. 

“Nancy,” he says gently, and it’s not a question, more of a plea. 

“It’s the—the lights, _shit,_ I—” Her words cut off in a sob and she buries her face in her hands. _“Shit,_ Mike, I—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, and reaches out for her shoulder. 

He stops himself before he gets there, remembering how Will gets sometimes. Shaky, panicky, crying. Will flinches if you touch him when he’s like that. 

“Nancy,” Mike says again, even gentler. “I’m gonna take your hand now, and we’re gonna go inside, okay?”

Nancy nods, letting her shaky hand find her brother’s as he leads her through the front door and sits her down on the couch. She curls up into herself, squeezing her eyes shut and hugging her knees as tight as she can. She hears Mike’s footsteps retreat before they come back toward her. 

“Nancy,” he says, and she opens her eyes. 

Her brother stands in front of her, big eyes and worried face, holding a glass of water out to her. 

“Here,” he says, and she takes it, sipping slowly. 

Mike sits down next to her and they sit in silence until she finishes the glass and sets it down on the coffee table in front of her. 

Nancy rubs a hand across her face. “Thanks, Mike,” she says, and tears form in her eyes. 

“Aw, shit, don’t cry,” Mike says. “I just got you to stop!”

Nancy laughs and wipes her eyes. “I’m okay,” she assures him. “I’m okay.”

“So,” Mike says after a while. “Does that—does that happen to you a lot?”

Nancy shrugs. “No, not really. I just—I didn’t know you put the lights up today. It freaked me out.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a silence. 

“It happens to other people, too,” Mike says. “Like—like Will, he gets like that a lot, where he’s all shaky and it’s hard for him to breathe. And Dustin called me the other night because he had a nightmare and he was really scared like that, too. And Jonathan and Mrs. Byers said no when Will asked them to put up their Christmas lights. They don’t like them either.”

“Yeah,” says Nancy. “It’s—it’s just hard.”

Mike nods wisely. “I can take them down if you want.”

Nancy smiles. “Mom would ask why.”

“Well, I could—”

“Mike.” Nancy says, voice laced with fondness. “It’s okay. Just let me give you a hug.”

And he does, wrapping his arms around her like he hasn’t done in years. 

And it’s soft, and it’s warm, and they both smile. 

And if, by the next morning, the end of every strand of Christmas lights in the entire house has been chopped off by safety scissors, that’s nobody's business but their own. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mike ruining every single strand of Christmas lights that the Wheelers own? An A+ brother move.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please let me know if you see any!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
